


Hot for Teacher

by tombs



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, College, Human College Professor, Human/Werewolf - Freeform, Interspecies Romance, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Romance, Soulmates, Student Werewolf, Teacher-Student Relationship, True Mates, Urban Fantasy, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, very very slight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tombs/pseuds/tombs
Summary: Will, a thirty-five year old college professor, meets a student he is hopelessly attracted to. Hopper, an eighteen year old werewolf, meets his mate.Will can't have a relationship with a student. He tries to keep distance between them, but will it work? And does Hopper even understand how dangerous this is for Will's life and career?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note that archive warnings are off. There's no major character death, but there could be some triggery stuff in the backstory. 
> 
> Rating might get bumped up to Explicit, we'll see.

“Once upon a time,” his great-grandmother used to tell, “everyone had a soulmate. Every shifter from the wolves to the bears to the deer, and the humans too.”

He hadn’t cared about love stories when he was little. He wanted the stories of war and battle, the stories of the brave wolves who destroyed the towns that hunted them, or the clever foxes who blended in with the humans, or the fights between the humans and the witches. 

“Everyone knew who they were meant to be with because they had marks on their skin,” great-grandmother would say, “marks that matched one other person!”

Hopper hadn’t been born with any birthmarks. Neither had his sisters or his parents.

“A deer and a wolf could be destined for each other. A fox might find their true mate with a human. It brought unity and peace between the races.”

“Lame,” Hopper would complain at this point.

“Shut up,” one of his sisters would complain.

“It didn’t stay boring for long!” Grandmother would promise, “Not everyone wants peace.”

“I don’t.”

“Shut up!”

But great grandmother never held his impatience against him. She’d smile when he interrupted and just continue on. “Some tribes would deny the bonds between these couples. Flocks of deer didn’t want to admit one of their own was meant to be with a wolf. Or the humans, oh, they were the worse. They never wanted to see shifters as anything more than animals.”

“And then they fought!”

His older sister had taken a pillow to him on occasion. “Stop. Inter. Rupting!”

“They would do horrible things to deny the bond. Killing. Burning. Cutting.”

“Did they cut off someone’s skin?” Hopper had asked eagerly. His older sister had hit him in disgust.

“Oh yes, sometimes they would carve around the mark, and then peel the skin right off!” His grandmother told him gleefully. “Or they might try to burn the mark off. Delphia the swan’s mark was on her face. Her mother and father couldn’t stand that she was meant to be with a bull, so they stuck a poker into the fire until the iron was red. Then they pressed it to her cheek.”

His little sister used to cry sometimes start crying during these stories.

“It made the god of love sad to see the people be so cruel to each other. So he stopped gifting marks.”

“But how are lovers supposed to find each other?” His little sister would ask, while wiping at her eyes with a snobby hand.

“He gave each of us the ability to recognize our soulmate in our hearts. And with our nose.” Grandmother bobbed the little girl’s nose. “We can smell them, like an irresistible peach. We can feel them deep within our hearts. And when we find them, we WANT them!”

The first time Hopper thought he might understand was in sixth grade. They lived in the big city, but within the small community of Kiel, made of werewolves and other shifters. There were a few plain humans, but most of them were born into the neighborhood. Outsiders weren’t welcomed. And shifters weren’t necessarily welcomed by outsiders.

Growing up, there were only twelve other kids in his grade. The high school was the community center. The elementary was also the junior high.

His great grandmother had passed on at that point, and it was his father who sat him down for a talk. “You’ve been looking at some of your classmates differently.”

“I dunno,” Hopper had said, not interested in this conversation, or really any that his parents wanted to have with him these days.

“I thought you might latch onto that gray tail girl in your class. But that’s not really who you’ve been interested in, is it?”

Rebecca wasn’t very interesting, no.

“Is there anyone who you might have a crush on?”

“Naw.”

“Are you sure? There’s no one who you’ve been…staring at? Following?”

“No,” Hopper denied.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Maybe.”

“Because your teacher told me you’ve been spending a lot of time following one of the seventh graders.”

Hopper had. It was Matthew Kobayashi, and he was amazing. He was a slender kitsune boy, and they played soccer together. Hopper would never have thought these things would be so enthralling, but now he’d glance in the locker room, catch a peak, at the curve of Matthew’s back, the notches on his spine. Even clothed, Hopper couldn’t stop staring at the shape of his arms, the way the lean muscle curved under the skin. They had lived in the same space for years, all their lives, but only now did Hopper notice the red fox when he transformed. It gave him a small thrill when he realized he was now bigger on than Matthew when changed.

“That kitsune kid told his teacher about you. They’re asking that you give him more space,” his father explained.

“But I haven’t done anything!”

“I know you feel like you aren’t. But you’re making him uncomfortable.”

“But. Dad. What if he’s the one?”

And now his Dad sighed. “Son. If he was ‘the one’, he wouldn’t be asking for space.”

The conversation had dissolved into “But, but!” and “You don’t understand!” and “It’s not fair!”

“Kid, there’s a couple things that happen when you meet ‘the one’. First, you’re gonna smell them. From far, far away you will be able to smell that there is someone important out there, and you’re not gonna be able to help yourself. You’re gonna go to them.”

Matthew Kobayashi smelled wonderful. Hopper could pick him out his scent amongst the whole room.

“Two, a couple things are gonna happen with your…anatomy.”

“Dad.”

“You’re going to get an erection.”

“Dad!”

There had been a lot of things he ‘learned’ that day, many of them he knew already for the other kids, and health class, and from the internet. And a couple thing he thought were true, but weren’t.

“You will not have a foot long dick.”

“But humans have that.”

“We are going to discuss your internet privileges, and what is appropriate for you to be looking at. But no one has penises like that. Not naturally. Not even wolves.”

Hopper had seen pictures that proved otherwise, but he wasn’t going to argue that while his internet rights were hanging on the line.

“If this fox kid was ‘the one’ you would have imprinted on him the first time you saw him. He may not be in your class, but I know you’ve probably seen him around for years. It’s probably not someone in town. You might not even have a soul mate. Not everyone does. Not everyone finds their true mate. You can find happiness with someone ordinary.”

“So I can still have Matthew Kobayashi.”

“No. If you don’t back off, Matthew Kobayashi is going to be filing a restraining order. And you will be grounded for a very, very long time.”

Bummer.

His crush on the beautiful kitsune had endured into high school, but he resigned himself that they weren’t soul mates.

But true mates were real. Living in a shifter community, everyone believed it. Once, he heard about it happening between two kindergarteners who met each other for the first time at school. They had gravitated towards each other, the rumors said, and couldn’t be separated without crying. It had gone on for a couple weeks before the parents started to acknowledge that the bond between them might be real.

It didn’t always happen young. Mr. Holten was the high school science teacher, and when he had first come to Kiel, he and (then) Mrs. Williams had gravitated towards each other like peanut butter and jelly. Apparently, her husband had found them doing in her car on campus.

When soul mates met, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. If they were adults, they went into something almost like a heat.


	2. Chapter 2

Will looked through his phone, a sick sour taste in his mouth. In the photos, Henry and his new boy toy were drinking at the bar, everyone around them with beers and smiles. Henry still looked handsome, tight shirt over thick muscles, graying beard, sunglasses. And the new young man he was with….he looked like a younger version of Will. Same brown hair, same shy dumb smile, glasses sinking down his nose, looking up at Henry so happily. Just ten years younger than Will. And all their friends -all of Henry's friends- were kicking back with a beer. Like they didn't give a shit that Will wouldn't be dropping in again.

"Will? Are you moping?" Sam asked as she walked into the office, heading for the coffee maker.

"I'm fine."

Her look was disbelieving. With the coffee pot going, she walked around him to reach for the blinds. Will winced when the bright morning sun poured over them.

"What are you looking at?" She reached for his phone. He kept it away from her for a brief minute, but she got her hands on it. Then she frowned at the pictures. "What a creep."

"Yeah."

"How old is that kid? Twenty?"

"Twenty-four. He's got an internship at Henry's firm."

"Gross. He was a douchebag Will, you have to stop going for these guys. No more Facebook."

Will took his phone back, to find that she had turned it off. “Thanks.”

"The latest rumor is that the Dean wants to get rid of five people," Sam let drop, going back to the coffee maker.

"Are you kidding me?" He moaned into his arms.

"You're fine. He'll drop the part-timers first, then Laramie."

"That's only three people."

"And you're one of the most popular teachers. All the kids want to take you for 101 and 102."

Will was the favorite with students over teachers like Ajax or Hunt or Laramie. But the other professors had seniority and taught the higher level English curriculum. Anyone could teach the intro classes.

"My elective got canceled," he told her, glumly.

Sam sighed. It hadn't been a surprise. Only three students had signed up for his class. He’d been watching all summer, hoping someone else would sign up. But classes started today, and it was too late. All he was teaching this semester was English 101 and 102.

"You just gotta talk it up with the kids more next time."

"The dean probably won't give me a chance at special topics in the spring." Will turned on his phone again. Before he got distracted by Henry, he had meant to search for “English Professor Jobs”.

"You'll be fine!" He could hear her grabbing mugs and pouring coffee. "The kids love you. I love you. Just hang in there."

"Henry doesn't love me."

"Henry's a pedophile. We don't care what Henry likes. Here." She set coffee in front of him. “Gimme your rosters."

Will let her dig into his class rosters, and picked up her’s. Outside, the sun had fully risen, and the dewy haze had become bright autumn air. Sam taught senior level classes Journalism, practically owning the minor. Their little private college tucked it into part of the English program. Her connections had helped him get this position, but after five years here, Will could see that the college cycled through professors, eagerly taking in new ones, trying them out, but not so eager to advance or tenure them. New teachers probably cost less. Will was a good teacher, but he wasn't an impressive academic. Fortunately, the most impressive ones tended to get picked up by the bigger university across town. He'd managed to keep his job for now.

"Did you see this?" Sam asked, her eyes intent on his roster. “You didn't tell me you had a werewolf," she looked up at him.

"The Reznick kid? I've had a were spring semester too." Granted, that was before the attack in Lincoln.

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"I'm such an asshole for saying this, but I feel like the admins set you up for trouble. There's a lot of angry weres right now, and angry people, and it's just a bad environment."

"Don't piss off the werewolf you mean."

She didn't argue with that, and Will sighed.

“That thing in Lincoln was pretty nasty looking." She mused.

"That wolf was a meth addict. Most weres don't look that bad. Any news how an illegal were got by?"

Her fingers started ticking, the way they did when she was itching to go out and investigate. She was an experienced reporter. But the work had been too sparse, and she'd ended up here. She should have been at the New York Times, but Will would have missed her desperately.

She sat down at her own desk. “Nothing’s been verified. They don't even know where he'd been living. Best guess is he spent the last five years in someone else's trailer cooking."

"Scary." Will watched out the office window. The quad was filling up with students. The clock ticked towards 7:20 am.

"Yeah."

Will took his roster from her, figuring he should head to class. "I'm not too worried about my students being unsterilized. But he might be a pain in the ass. The dynamics are weird with weres."

"Alpha, beta, omega."

"Weird."

"Can't argue with that.” Sam got up from her desk and refilled her coffee mug. “Let's hope he's one of the mellow ones. Did you see I have two freshmen in my 301 class? How the hell did they sneak in? I'm going to kick them out if they're cocky shit heads."

The clock turned 7:30, and they both headed out to their classrooms for the first day of the semester. Will taught all of his classes in the lecture halls, with thirty or forty students. Sam would be teaching twenty or less in her upper-level journalism classes. Will had over a hundred students this semester, most of them not even English majors.

The first kids trickled in about twenty til. Will gave them friendly smiles, marking each student off in the roster, asked them about their majors. In the back of his mind was Henry. It was cold in bed alone. Most of his friends had been through Henry. He wasn’t sure he could even attract men anymore. It was getting harder to get answers on dating sites. Will got a lot of attention back in his twenties, invites, pickups. Now, he was the one reaching out to other guys. Half the time he didn’t get any response. He’d had some hook ups. But nothing lasted. He’d tried bars. That’s where he’d met Henry. They had lasted almost a year. But Henry hadn’t wanted just one boyfriend.

He couldn’t go to the bar near his home anymore. He hadn’t worked up the courage, or energy, to try any others. Much less finding another gay bar that was nearby. Or had the right atmosphere. He didn’t want a dance club. All he had was dating sites for now. And some of the responses he got on there…didn’t fit.

_“U look like cum dump. Want 3 guys cum?”_

_“I daddy bottom bear. U top?”_

_“You host? I host when my parents out.”_

_“d want you so hurd”_

_“I really love older men like you. Teacher/student play?”_

He just hadn’t found any good matches. He used to feel attractive and desirable. Now he felt…old. A little fat. Unwanted. On the serious dating sites, the intelligent older men always wanted someone younger than him. On the hookup sites, he couldn’t compete with the skinny twinks or fit gym bunnies. Will had started to feel like one of the undesirables. He wanted a smart, hot, older, dominant… pure-hearted man. Someone he could trust. Someone good.

He’d met Henry at the bar. It had been Will’s safe little getaway, where he could drink beer and eat his favorite dinner while grading papers. Henry had eyed him for weeks before one day finally seducing Will into stepping away from his work and blowing Will’s mind in the bathroom. God, he’d happily done anything and everything Henry wanted at that point.

Most of the students were there at five til the hour. They were fairly lively right now, though that would undoubtedly disappear after the first week of school. The eight am time slot would catch up to them.

There were only three tardies by the time 8:05 rolled around. Not bad for a first day. But his head was getting fuzzy, and the auditorium seemed liked a stuffed up room. He wanted to open a window, though there were none. Will was going over the syllabus when the new person walked in. He looked up to greet the tardy student and his heart stopped.

The young man was a little short, but handsome. His t-shirt clung to his pecs and biceps. His hair was chocolate brown, his eyes burgundy. His jaw was square, lips thick, nose a little fat. The young man’s nostrils flared, as he breathed in. Their eyes locked.

“Mr. Grayson? Mr. Grayson?” Will finally heard the question, and looked back towards the class. Students stared at him. “Weirdo,” came from the assembly of students. The class had started to whisper amongst themselves. There were a few snickers and scoffs.

“Lost my head a little there. I obviously need more coffee. Name please?” He asked the new young man, meeting his eyes again. There was something hungry there. Will’s hands were feeling a little shaky.

“…Ernest,” the young man answered, with perhaps a bit of reluctance in his tone. “Ernest Reznick. But I go by Hopper.”

“That’s easy enough.” Will nodded, nose pointed down towards the roster, finding the name. Stopping. This was the werewolf. “Are you…” He cut off the question, aware of how inappropriate it would be to out the young man.

“I’m a werewolf,” Hopper said, a smirk in his voice. The bored, insolent class went suddenly quiet, then burst back into noise, at Hopper and amongst themselves.

“You’re a were?!”

“This is so cool!”

“Is this safe…”

“Enough,” Will raised his voice above the group. “Enough! This is an English class, not a biology class. Mr. Reznick-”

“Hopper.”

“Hopper. Take a seat, and get here early next time. We’re all very happy to have you here, but tardies will affect your grade. It’s in the syllabus, I’ll let you all do the math. Everyone, you can ask him questions after class. If he wants to answer them, of course,” he waved vaguely in apology towards Hopper.

“Sure, teach.” The boy took a seat in the front row. He pulled the chair’s little desk, but also laid his left arm over his lap. It was about then that Will realized he himself was hardening, slowly but surely.

Will took refuge behind his desk, hoping he got there before anyone saw. The auditorium was twice as stuffy now, with a scent like slight sweat. But not bad. Like a clean man who had just worked out, before the scent of sweat could turn sour. It made Will’s balls clench. “Back to the lesson, uh, syllabus at hand. There will be no tests, but six papers weighted at fifteen percent each. Attendance does calculate into your final score.”

He rushed through the quasi-lesson, eager to dismiss early. 


	3. Chapter 3

Will’s erection had mostly faded by the time class was dismissed, as if his lower brain had taken the hint that he wouldn’t be getting any this morning.

Unfortunately the young Mr. Reznick stuck around to answer questions.

“You’re a werewolf?” One boy with hipster glasses asked.

“Yup. I’m a dire wolf,” Hopper said with a cocky grin. Something about his grin made Will doubt Mr. Reznick was a dire-anything. But his canines seemed just a tiny bit longer and sharper than what you would normally see on someone.

“No, you’re not!” Resounded from a red-haired football jock with his arm wrapped around a cheerleader.

“That’s impossible! They’re extinct.” She retorted with a flip of her hair.

Will glanced up from where he was putting away his class materials. There was a good half of the class around the werewolf, eagerly hearing everything he had to say. The young man was soaking up the attention, confidently playing to the crowd.

“You’re right. I’m just a plain old timber wolf. Most of us round here are.”

Another girl, wearing shiny pink lip gloss, leaned in. “Is your whole family wolves?”

“My little sister’s not. She’s the weirdo in the family. My other sister is a wolf though. Got it from both my parents.”

“Can you bite people?” Hipster glasses asked.

Here, Hopper really grinned. “Sure! But it wouldn’t do nothing. We’re all sterilized.” Reznick shrugged ambivalently.

“That were attack in Lincoln wasn’t sterilized,” said the cheerleader.

“Ain’t nothing I can do about some crazy lone wolf. Only way you get around the cops is if you’re some redneck hillbilly born in the mountains or something.”

“My aunt’s a wolf,” pink lipstick said, her gaze challenging. “You live in Kiel?”

“Yup.”

She looked him up and down. “I bet you’re a beta.”

“I’m an alpha,” Hopper challenged back.

“What the hell’s that mean?” The jock asked.

For a moment, Will thought he could feel eyes on him. An intent gaze. He didn’t look up.

“It means I’m one of the top dogs,” Hopper said. “I could stop you in your track if I wanted.”

“No you couldn’t!”

“It means you’re just another cocky asshole,” Lipstick muttered.

“What do you think I did to Mr. Grayson?” Hopper raised his voice, “I showed him who was top dog. But not on purpose. Sorry Mr. Grayson!”

Will sighed, and had to look up. He didn’t meet the young man’s eyes, and hated the weakness of it. “You are very shocking Mr. Reznick.”

“Call me Hopper!” The young man called back.

“I think I’ll call you trouble,” Will jested.

For the first time, Hopper Reznick didn’t have an immediate comeback. Will looked up, and their eyes met again. He felt caught in that brown gaze. Hopper looked caught off guard, and curious. And hungry.

The hard on was coming back, and Will couldn’t wait around here. He pushed his glasses up with a finger, and pulled his messenger bag over a shoulder, trying to unsuspiciously cover his crotch with it. “

“I’ll see you kids next week.” He heads to the door.

“Hey Mr. Grayson!”

Will stops before he can reach the door. He looks back, to the group, to the young man in the center of the group, and stops himself before their eyes can meet. “Yes, Mr. Reznick?”

“Where’s your office again?”

Will almost doesn’t want to give away this part of himself. “English teachers have our offices all the way to the west.” He hesitated. “My office is number 135. It’s in the syllabus. Good day.” He leaves before the conversation can continue, eager for escape.

He escaped to Sam’s classroom, instead of going to the office. She was still mad about the freshmen in her morning class, and ranted about it while they got lunch at the sub place on campus.

Then it was his 1 PM class, and another large group of uninterested freshmen and sophomores from various majors.

* * *

That evening found him in his office, adhering to office hours. No one had come by so far. There was no homework to grade yet, so he’s working through his pile of books to read.

After this he would go home. Just this spring, he would have eagerly gone to the bar to hang out there. But he can’t because that’s Henry’s territory. He should hit the gym, but he doesn’t want to run into any students, and he doesn’t have the gym clothes ready. He’s texted the little circle of friends he still has (the split significantly shrunk that pool), but no one’s free Monday night. Or Tuesday. Or Friday.

Will was having trouble focusing on Liu Cixin and The Three Body Problem. The words in front of him were getting a little fuzzy, and he put the book down with his thumb holding his page. Was it getting late? He had to squint at his wristwatch, but it told him it was almost eight. Finally, he could head home.

But there was tension in the air. The hair on his neck raised, and he looked towards the door, a nervous premonition. There were footsteps in the empty hall.

The footsteps stopped in front of his door.

“Can I help…you?” Will has to swallow to finish saying it.

The door opened. Hopper stepped into view. “Mr. Grayson.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple changes in the tags! There's a new one there. ;) Unfortunately, I took down Mating Cycles/In Heat because it just wasn't working the way I wanted it to. Maybe next time.

Hopper was as handsome as he had been earlier today. His lips were quirked in a small smile, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. He looked so young.

Will’s mouth went dry. He had to swallow again, trying to disguise his discomfort -and erection- by leaning forward in his chair, acting busy. “Mr. Reznick. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to catch you before you left today.” Hopper stepped in, letting the door close behind him. His eyes stayed on Will, looking him up and down. Will knew he didn’t look like much; messy hair, jeans, old brown oxfords. Hopper just nodded, then turned his head to examine the office. “Sorry I was late. I just couldn’t find the place. My head’s been buzzing all day. I actually found my way down here first.”

Will leaned back. “Here?”

“Yeah, this office.” Hopper breathed in, and a broad smile, a real smile, not some cocky grin, graced his face. “I couldn’t get in, of course. Who’s the broad?” He nodded towards Sam’s desk.

How could Hopper tell? Was it the way Sam decorated her desk? No, wait. Werewolf. “The ‘broad’ is my friend and colleague, Samantha Gordon. You should call her woman or, smarter yet, lady. What’s your major, Hopper?”

Hopper circled around the office, far too presumptuous. “I don’t know. Something I can make money with. Business? Or engineering.”

Part of Will’s soul sighed for another student lost to the wonders of literature and the secrets of the English language. “I could introduce you to the department heads of Business or Applied Science if you’d like.”

“Naw, not yet. Say, can I…” He reached up for the sunglasses that Will had continually forgotten for weeks on the floating shelf. Hopper’s hand hovered over them impatiently.

“Uh. Go ahead, I suppose-” Hopper didn’t wait for any better permission, snatching them up, and slipping them on.

“Woah! Something is wrong,” Hopper looked all over the room, the dark shades attractively framing his square face.

“They’re prescription,” Will said with a grudging smile. “And expensive, so please don’t break them.”

“Huh. Never had to wear glasses.” Hopper kept them on, squinting at a book on Sam’s shelf.

“Werewolves and other shifters have exceptionally good sight and hearing, correct?” Will asked, feeling perhaps foolishly confident that this gregarious young man wouldn’t be sensitive to the subject.

“Better than humans, sure,” Hopper responded. “Though there’s a rare case here or there that needs glasses. We’re better, but not always perfect.”

“Ah. And you’re from here?” Will asked.

“I’m from Kiel. You know it?”

“South of the river, right?” Will did know of Kieltown, which had a large shifter community. Most of the city knew it. It had once been its own little town but had been surrounded over time by suburban growth. It was part of the city now. Still, it kept its identity, like many of the boroughs did. Though few were as notorious.

“Yup. Born and raised. Here,” Hopper handed over the sunglasses. Their fingers did not touch. Will slipped them into his bag. “They didn’t come from someone else, did they?”

“No?”

Hopper slipped into Sam’s chair, hiking it up (that would drive her mad), and put his feet on her side of the desk. Will meaningfully cleared his throat.

“Did you used to have another officemate?”

“No. Would you please take your feet off?”

Hopper did, and started slowly swirling around. “You got a roommate at home?”

“That is none of your business, Mr. Reznick. But no, I do not.”

“Huh,” was all Hopper said, gazing up at the ceiling.

It was fifteen after now, and definitely time to head out. Hopper Reznick didn’t seem inclined to dismiss himself. Will stood up, and started pulling on his jacket, hoping the young man would take the hint. He asked, “No one’s given you a hard time, have they?”

Hopper swiveled left and right. “Not yet. You can tell the ones who aren’t comfortable around weres. Smell like fear or aggression. They’ll probably make trouble eventually. Can you tell?” He looked back to Will, meeting eyes again. “When people are simmering underneath?”

Will felt brittle and vulnerable under that gaze, and he broke eye contact. “Um. Probably not the same way you can? Most normal, uh,” he instantly regretted the word, “most non-shifters can tell when others don’t like them. I mean, not everyone, some struggle with that. But most of us can read it in body language.”

Hopper had his hands crossed over his stomach, languid. “You can smell it. You just don’t know you smell it.”

“Well, pheromones yes…” Will looked up again, stupidly, like he normally would, meeting a student’s eyes when they discuss. And this time he couldn't look away.

Hopper Reznick had stood up, and held his eyes, physically closer than he’d ever been to Will. And Will recognized this feeling, the feeling he got when a man looks at him and the goosebumps crawl up his arms, invisible fingers climb his spine, and his mouth goes dry.

This is the moment he should ask Mr. Reznick to step out.

But Will couldn't say anything, like he so often couldn’t with Henry, or the man before that, or the one before that.

“Hey,” Hopper said quietly, like he’s testing the air, and his hand reached up, out, to touch Will’s face. Will flinched away.

“Mr. Reznick, I’m afraid I’m not at my best outside of class,” Will stepped back, a tightness in his stomach. Pushed his chair against the desk. “I’m heading out for the day. I have early morning class tomorrow. It probably would be best if...” He faltered. “If you have any concerns, I’m happy to help. If not, then have a good rest of your week, and I’ll see you again next Monday.”

Hopper eyed him, the anticipatory gleam in his eyes gone. He stepped back, tongue between his lips. “Okay.” He said it neutrally, but Will could hear the undercurrent of confusion. Hopper ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll just, go,” he shot a thumb at the door, backing up. The air seemed to get easier to breathe, less thick as space grew between them. “Thanks Mr. Grayson. I…” He was almost to the door, but his steps dragged, something stronger than reluctance. He hesitated.

“Please go, Mr. Resnick.”  
  
Hopper looked him up and down. “Are you sure, Mr. Grayson? You smell…” A deep inhale here. “Distressed. Horny. I know I’m not the only one with a hard-on right now.”

Will didn't even know what to say. His mouth was gently slack from the shock of it. His cock was raising, despite, or maybe in part because of, the humiliation. He blinked. “You should go,” he ordered the student.

“I’m not trying to upset you,” Hopper said, hands raised, all confidence leeched from his voice, a bare desolateness left. “I’m just trying to understand why you want me to go when you obviously feel the same.”

“You need to go,” Will ordered again, squaring his shoulders and chin.

Hopper stepped towards him. But he reacheed behind him, hand feeling for the knob. Locked the door.

“You feel it too Mr. Grayson. Will. That’s what you’re friends call you, don’t they?”

Will swallowed and held his ground.

The young man took another step towards him. “My father told me when it happened, they wouldn’t be able to hold back any more than I could. But you’re holding back, and I’m, I’m terrified I’m the only one feeling this.” Another step. Hopper reached up a large hand to Will’s face, hovering there, not daring to touch. “You feel it, don’t you?”

The knot in Will’s throat was thick, tight. His breathing sped up. When Hopper touched him he flinched. But Hopper retreat this time.

“You feel it. You’re holding back, but I know you feel it. I bet you’re always holding back,” Hopper said softly, like he was discovering something. “Whatever it is you’re afraid of, I’ll fight it. I will take on the world for you.” His other hand soothed over Will’s arm; to Will’s own shock he was trembling, and Hopper’s touch only made it worse. Then, slowly, made it better.

“I’m here,” Hopper said so softly, leaning in. “I won’t hurt you.” Will turned his face away, and Hopper’s lips touched his cheek.

Will was painfully hard now. Hopper’s body burned against him, one hand holding him by the other cheek, the other hand tight around his wrist. Will closed his eyes, opened his mouth, breathed in the other man’s breaths. He hadn’t had this in so long. His body shook for it. Hopper’s face turned, lips caressed over his, intent, sucking. Hopper’s lips were chapped with sharp edges and Will sucked, softening them. The tip of his tongue touched Will’s own lips, but not intruding further. Not yet.

Will wasn’t sure how long the seductive kiss had gone on before he tried to pull away. Too long. He’d let it go on too long.

“Come here,” Hopper whispered against his lips. He brushed their mouths together, sucking gently on Will’s bottom lip. The hand that had held Will’s wrist now had him by the hip. Hopper’s bicep was warm under Will’s palm.

“This isn’t right.” Will whispered back, his eyes still shut.

“It is. There’s nothing righter in the world.” Hopper leaned away, and Will tried to chase him. Hopper’s lips found his neck, and Will groaned, leaning back to give him more room.

Hopper’s grip grew more intense, hands holding Will tight around the hips, pulling their fronts flush together, erections pressing against each other, slotting slide by side through the fabric. Will bucked forward, and Hopper bit down.

“Ah! A-ah!” It hurt. Hopper held him too tight to escape. Then Will went shivery with it, distress changing to the right type of pain, his balls aching from it, whining from Hopper’s teeth on his neck, then panting as Hopper released him. 

Will couldn’t make coherent words, just moans and pants. Hopper mouthed at the spot, sucking, pushing Will back, arms the only thing holding him up, until they hit the desk. Hopper lowered him to it, bringing his head up from Will’s neck to look down at him, pushing Will’s books and papers and things out of the way. His hand stayed around the back of Will’s head, and Hopper leaned down to kiss him hungrily again.

There was harsh metallic friction where zipper scrapped button, Hopper pressing down with heavy thrusts. Will felt caught by the weight of hips against his. He pressed up, his bucks not strong enough to move under superhuman strength, eyes clenched tight, kiss broken. Hopper’s nose pressed against his cheek.

Hopper had been holding himself up by the elbows before, but he gave up on that now, resting the full weight of his head and chest against Will, and they breathed together.

Will dug into the backs of Hopper’s pants, grabbing his ass. His legs were up in the air, hugging Hopper around the hips. He dug his hands under Hopper’s jeans and shorts, gripping the tight buns, then trying to push the pants down.

Hopper happily pushed them down himself. They only fell to his knees, and then he was working at Will’s clothes, trying to tug at Will’s pants, before Will reached to his own stomach to unbuckle his belt.

As soon as his erection was uncovered, Hopper had him by the hand, pumping. Will hissed, breathing ragged.

“I got you. That’s how you like it,” Hopper rasped.

“Slower. More intense,” Will got out. “Keep going.”

Hopper’s hand slowed but didn’t gentle, and it was perfect, so perfect. Will clenched his teeth, tears at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Hopper said as he slotted their erections together, wrapping his hand around both, but mostly covering Will’s. Their cocks were burning hot against each other, and a bit too fast. Will bucked up, turning his head to the side where Hopper’s supporting arm bracket him in, pressing his forehead against Hopper’s arm.  
  
“Fuck me. Fuck me,” he begged.

Hopper didn’t wait. He pulled Will’s legs over his shoulders, lifting Will up so easily by the hips that it was shocking. Will wanted Hopper to fuck him against a wall. He wanted Hopper to fuck him just holding him up in his arms. He was so strong he could do it. Will was burning inside for it. He felt empty, wanted to be rammed and filled and keep Hopper’s cock and fingers in him for forever.

Hopper jacked his cock between Will’s legs, spitting on his palms to try and get himself slick. Will, with only the barest of intelligence left, reached blindly passed Hopper’s arm to Sam’s side of the desk. What he found first turned out to be an old soda bottle, then a plant, and he spilled the water vase – Hopper was pressing the tip against his hole, and Will’s mouth fell open, eyes shut, but still he reached - then found it.

“Here,” he pressed the lotion against Hopper’s chest. The man gratefully took it, though his nose crunched when he smelled the mango scent.

“Fuckin’ reeks,” Hopper complained but he still used it, slathering it graciously over his cock, then squeezing out more and rubbing his fingers over Will’s winking hole.

The pads of Hopper’s fingers caught on his hole. Will pushed outwards. Hopper's fingers slowly pressed in, two of them at once, and Will had to stop and take a breather, his ass clamping down around them before he threw his head back and pushed out again, opening up.

“Jesus Christ, I’m really doing this,” Hopper muttered, keeping the press slow, letting Will open up as he was ready. Will clenched around his fingers again when his knuckles hit Will’s ass. “Fuck, yes.” He wriggled his fingers around, pulling out a bit, then pressing back in. He fucked Will with little thrusts of his hand, spreading the lotion.

“More,” Will begged. Hopper pulled his hand out, rubbed more lotion over and in Will, fucking smoothly into him now. And so close. “Up,” Will started. Hopper pushed his fingers in all the way. “No, down. There. Now, up.” Hopper tried fucking into Will; Will squirmed. Hopper tried pressing up, towards Will’s stomach. “Yes!” Will said. “Yes! Now, find it.” Hopper searched and found it. Will keened.

Hopper rubbed his prostate with the pads of two fingers, over and over. Will’s legs curled up until his knees were around his head, his hands gripping the edge of the desk desperately. He panted and cried as Hopper mercilessly played with him there.

“I got you,” Hopper said against his mouth, between wet hungry kisses.

“Just do it,” Will begged, so hungry for cock he wanted to feel it in his throat.

Hopper pulled his fingers out and lined himself up. The tip of his cock socketed against the dip of Will’s hole so nicely. Will tightened, and they both groaned as he squeezed the little bit of head. A second later Hopper was pushing relentlessly into the opened up part of him, sliding in so full and nice.

There wasn’t a pause. Hopper set to him with an amateur’s awkward rhythm. Will let his legs fall open, jacking himself with one hand, bracing against the wall behind him with the other. Hopper started to find his rhythm. It didn’t matter that it was imperfect, not when each impact shook Will's whole body, struck the core of him.

“Wanted this for so long.” Hopper said.

“Keep going,” Will encouraged. “Deeper. Longer. Pull out a little more, and go further.”

Hopper seemed to understand, making his strokes longer, pulling a little further out, and really pressing in on the push. It was perfect, just the way Will needed it, and he whimpered. Hopper’s strokes evened out, deep and strong. The table shook.

Hopper leaned further forward, bracketing both hands around Will’s head. Will opened his eyes and smiled up at him. Hopper smiled back and leaned down to kiss him, losing a bit of the depth, but keeping that rhythm going.

“You’re so thick,” Will whispered to him.

“Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself,” Hopper whispered back, and reached down to jack Will’s cock, wrapping a hand around Will’s own.

“I like that,” Will whispered, as Hopper and his hand slid over and down his aching erection.

Hopper smothered his lips, smothered his smile with a hungry mouth, lowering until their sweaty chests were pressed together, and tucked his head against Will’s neck. He sped up, and Will’s breaths hitched, head falling back, open to just take it.

There were no coherent words at that point, just a hard fuck, Will digging his hands into Hopper’s back. The desk shook, pens and clutter rattling off. It was dark outside. Hopper was grunting like a bear, his thick cock filling Will so well, and Will could feel it coming, closer, so close.

And for the first time in his whole fucking life, he and his partner came at the same time.

They both cried out. Will could feel the spunk spurting into him with each thrust. Hopper fucked him through it. But before they had both finished, something changed. Thick became thicker, full fuller, overfull. Will twitched in Hopper’s arms, then writhed, panting as it got so full he thought he might burst.

“Stop, stop, Hop-Hopper- Hopper! Ah! Ah!”

He panicked. The thrusts had stopped, Hopper wedged huge and painfully firm inside him. Will panted and cried out. “Hopper, Hopper,” he begged.

Hopper had to pull himself up from Will’s chest like he was lost in lethargy, so tired his head weighed a ton. His face was tight, like it hurt him too.

“Hopper,” Will pleaded.

“It’s okay. Don’t panic, shh, shh,” the boy soothed, brushing his thumbs over Will’s cheek. “Calm down.”

But Will couldn’t.


End file.
